It Takes A Real Man To Tell The Truth.

Grandma explained it to me because I was too young to understand why there were so many people at the mosque behind our house when it was too early for Dzhuhur prayer. There were policemen, men in white shirt and black pants, some of them had a necktie on. I went down to see them talking in hush hush. I remember Imam Wan Long was there, so was arwah bilal Rahim. I remember them both since I had never seen the rest of the men before. Of course Grandma told me later that the men were from the court house. They were there to conduct a ceremony where the accused had a confession to make, that he didn't commit the crime and that he is telling the truth or else Allah will laknat him for the rest of his life.

I saw the man. He was a tall guy looking pale and worried. I didn't see him take the stand on the mimbar to confess but as the story goes; he didn't confess that way. Half way through it all he said he'd rather tell the truth that he had committed the crime than to receive laknat from Allah.

Case closed, everyone went home.

All those Muslim men involved in Lingam case should take a stand on a mimbar in a masjid and confess that they had nothing to do with the things people say they are involved in, or else let laknat Allah takes its due course.

Being lawyers, I reckon they know better that the law can't touch them as long as they can give the picture that this whole thing is not beyond reasonable doubt.

As for those Muslim men involved in the case, I believe none of them is man enough to go take a stand on a mimbar to tell the truth.

(An entry after 1st year Malaysian Legal System class.)

Azhar Dayok, Maknor Kerah & Ali Tong Geh.

Cooking gas tanks are made to last but don't ask me why people call him Ali Tong Geh when he's built like a baby tortoise; always hungry and moving ever so slowly that he'd be the last person you wanna have around when you've got an important thing to do like trying to catch the attention of a girl who has just moved in to a big white house with her family.

People say her father is a big guy in Eastern Mining Company and he speaks English like white folks do. People say he's from Penang. People also say her mother is a very petty woman from Kuala Trengganu so it's only natural that her three daughters are fair and pretty just like her. As a matter of fact, the eldest sister would later win first prize in the Ratu Kebaya Dungun 1970 competition. Wong the photographer from Kedai Gambar Hollywood would have her sit with the rest of the ugly contestants for a picture which he would later produce in large-sized prints. You can still steal a glance at the pictures in the showcase of his shop if you happen to find yourself in a dream and wake up in Dungun of all the places in the world.

People say the eldest sister is the most beautiful girl ever to come and live in Dungun but I don't think so. I'm ready to bet both my feet that the youngest sister is the prettiest girl I've ever seen in real life. Of course I've seen the prettiest girl before in a movie poster Cleopatra starring Elizabeth Taylor. I've never seen Elizabeth Taylor in real life so I won't know for sure how pretty she is outside the movie but for now, I've got me the prettiest girl living right next door to our house and I've got to find out who she is. At least her name so I can think of something like call her name out loud and run as fast as I can so she won't see me.

Which is why I'm having second thoughts about making Ali Tong Geh the kinda friend I should be with. The way I see it, he is getting in the way of my scheme of things but I gotta keep him thinking that we are best of friends. He may be slow but he's quick to spread a secret if you have one to people like Azhar Dayok and Maknor Kerah. These two are not the kinda people you wanna have around when you've got someone like the girl-next-door whose attention you're trying to attract. They are from a kampong further down and they watch too many Hindustani movies for their own good.

I'm thinking of cutting off the friendship with these three stooges. Who needs them when the prettiest girl in the world is staying in a house right next to mine.

Gonna Write It Different.

You and me, girl. You know in your heart this is never gonna work out. I know it too that I'm willing to sell both my ears to the most stingy sausage maker in town. If there is such a sausage maker in town, that is. First of all we're from two different worlds. I want different things and you don't see it any wiser why I should want things completely different from what you consider every egalitarian person alive should have. Maybe I am not egalitarian enough. The truth is I've just heard this word for the first time and heaven knows if I know what it means. That's how different we are. You use big words as natural a speaker as an experienced chef slicing an onion into wafer thin pieces, while I struggle to reproduce those words with four or five syllables in them so I can catch up with you. Never mind about looking the words up in the dictionary. By the time I find out the meaning, you are all fired up to discuss another topic with even bigger words with more than twelve or twenty syllables in them. I can never catch up with you. My brain isn't as bright as yours. Maybe age is the only thing that we share but you gotta face it. We are two different worlds. Yes, I know which school you went to and I'm fully aware which university you did your PhD

Lemme tell you this. While you were learning new things and getting wise at the famous all-girl school, I was out with a couple of friends stealing from beggars on the streets of Penang and missing school at least three days a week. While you were arguing facts and figures with your friends on campus, I was probably half conscious on the floor, locked up in a jail for brawling or eating in public during Ramadan. No, I don't think you and me can be together.

I can't love you. It's not right. It's not right for me to be falling in love with someone like you. You need someone like that guy who went to space. Someone who can argue with you. I can't. I only know how to make a fool of myself by hiding behind stupid jokes that I crack.

Yes, this is good-bye. So long. Adieu. I ain't sad because we never had much going anyway. I ain't sad because this is a good thing for you. It's a good thing. Trust me. Because how can I love you when I still wish for someone like her if I made it to heaven...

Good Old-Fashioned Kinda Stuff.

Nothing's better than good old-fashioned lamb stew when the fever got you all weak in the joints and the eyes feel like fire burning up the whole body. But one thing for sure. This fever ain't gonna get me down. I've got enough strength to get up to make me a good old-fashioned lamb stew with nice pieces of lamb, potatoes, carrot, onion and celery. Not much work here. Just brown the meat and let it all cook in a slow-cooker for three hours while I take a bit of a rest watching one movie after another that it got me all rather drowsy in the head.

I've got a bit of Gardenia slices left to go with the lamb stew. This will give me a bit of energy to fight this fever off. I can do this alone. No, no one is gonna see me this way.

Gotta Put Love On Hold.

There ain't gonna be no loving this weekend, not with the kinda voice I've got and what with high temperature and feeling kinda feverish that I don't wanna have anything to do with love except to stay in bed wrapped in Kashmir shawl feeling like a prince out of love now that I can't go out to see my princess prancing about the meadow like a girl she is singing a song straight out of a Hindi movie like, Kaho Na Piyar Re Hey or something like that.

As it is right now I don't answer phone calls on account I can't speak a sentence without having to raise the tone of my voice to a level high enough to make a sound but the only sound you're gonna hear is a mild squeak that could very well sound like a feeble cry of a baby hamster trying to sing the national anthem.

I don't need this fever but there's nothing I can do about it. As a matter of fact I've got everything planned out for a productive weekend like a picnic in the park munching on lamb sandwich and Mediterranean salad with home-made dressing, courtesy of Laleli extra virgin olive oil. On Sunday I've got me a plan to take you to a man-made lake where we can sit on a bench for hours to eat something you may want me to prepare at home.

You know how it is, we can only plan things out but things have a way of turning out completely the other way at the last minute and this fever is the last minute thing that turned up unexpectedly almost immediately after I completed 20 laps in a 25 meter pool swimming freestyle and breaststroke. Maybe I took in too much water. Whatever it is, there's nothing I can do about it.

No, I don't want you to see me this way. It's not my way to present myself to people when I'm not healthy. I don't want you to see me coughing while saying something like; how's it going with ya? Gotta say it with a firm voice minus the special effect of a cough or a coarse tone coming out of a throat out of line.

Until I'm all right and ready, you know that I gotta put love on hold. Maybe you'd be gone by the time I'm back on my feet but no way I'm gonna let you see me this way. A strong guy won't let a girl see him this way. Not in my book.

Alang-Alang Jatuh Cinta.

We shouldn't be here but of all the nice places in the world this is where you wanna be so there's nothing I can do about it but to have it your way that I gotta keep still as a tree not saying anything except to smile every now and then when people at the same table ask me questions that I don't really know how to answer except to say nice things people in nice clothes say to each other on an evening like this when all I see are people trying to be high class putting on high-class show as if we're all on a boat trip sailing down the river to see a king in his summer palace to say how's it goin', your highness?

What have I gotten myself into with you? But you're such a nice thing that it's kinda hard for me not to be with you when I know for sure that a lot of guys would kill each other with their teeth just to be with you on account that you're so beautiful that I too had better be prepared to kill people just in case a guy walks up to ask you for a phone number or other things a guy usually asks a pretty girl like you when he's a little tipsy in the head feeling like a million buck thinking he's Brad Pitt or George Cloney or Shah Rukh Khan or someone from that lineage.

I've got a pair of nice English shoes that don't mean much to anyone at the table since everyone has got on hand-made shoes too expensive for me to even dream of having a pair but this thought doesn't bother me all that much since I'm sitting right next to you. Although I can't figure what got into you to bring me along so you can be here this evening with all this high-class folks now talking and laughing high-class that I gotta excuse myself for a couple of minutes to go into the bathroom so I can practise in there how to talk and laugh high-class too before a guy at the table whispers you in the ear with something like this; 'What's a sweet thing like you doing with a scrap like that?' Of course this won't be how the guy would say it because he's too high-class to be talking in a low-down talk like that but I have no way of knowing how to say something like that high-class.

I'm in the bathroom but it's like a voting station in here with people lining up to use the booth that I figure this isn't the kinda place I should be practising how to talk and laugh high-class in front of a mirror while this folks looking normal-class trying to hold the bladder the best they can that I gotta get outta here because I don't have a full bladder.

So I'm back with you at the table and you kinda look me in the eye as if I've been gone a long time to look for a horse somewhere in Mongolia. And so I say; 'Can't find the damned horse in Mongolia so I figured it's better to be here with you.' That got people laughing but I can't get it what got them to laugh so hard when I'm trying to tell the truth but they take it as a joke. Even if it was a joke I don't think it's a good one, I mean what's the connection between a horse and Mongolia? But people laugh at things when they're a little tipsy that I'd better stay on my toes just in case someone walks up to you to ask where in Mongolia I've been to.

We're in the car and I'm reading aloud the street signs, billboards and buildings that it got you to laugh as if every one of them is a punch line to a joke so silly you gotta laugh silly yourself. I don't get it but since you laugh I'd better laugh myself just in case you have the impression I am such a bore. Maybe it's the air-freshener that got me thinking maybe tonight is good a night as any to be falling in love and to ask you to marry me since you're such a pretty person that it would be a shame if I don't muster the courage to say this to you but I remember a song;...and then I go and spoiled it all by saying something stupid like 'I love you'...

I don't wanna spoil things so I'd better don't say something stupid like that but instead say something like; you know, I think the horses are healthy in Mongolia.

That got you laugh even more.